I Didn't Know They CaredI get hardly any spam: just a couple a day, nothing I can't handle. This is because I have the best spam-filter, and virus-checker, in the world: namely, my almost pathological fear of on-line forms, and a distrust teetering towards paranoid of paper-clipped e-mails from persons unknown.

So that's why it was amazingly only last night, after four years of being on-line at home, that I received my very first batch of viagra and willy-stretching ads. It had taken them so long to get round to me I thought they'd forgotten me, or given me up as a lost and celibate cause.

I find it rather touching to think there's some innocent out there who still hasn't heard that I am, in fact, my dears, a rock-hard and ultra-masculine stallion, capable of making grown men's eyes water. And not that I need either vacuum pump or little blue pills, you understand, but it's nice to think that someone cares.

(Ooh, all right then. But just a cheeky half, mind. And that thing is going nowhere near my - )